


In French We Say

by Moonjay8



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gay Harry Potter, M/M, Triwizard Tournament, bisexual draco
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 15:47:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8538928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonjay8/pseuds/Moonjay8
Summary: Draco attempts to seduce Potter. By flirting with the Beauxbatons girls. Harry, on the other hand, takes this as a challenge. In which Draco speaks french, Harry is as oblivious as always, and an unspoken competition to win over the hearts of as many Beauxbatons as possible ensues.





	

Draco Malfoy was speaking fucking French. Harry watched as he weaved his way between the Beauxbatons girls, chatting amiably with an easy smirk on his face. One girl blushed bright red as he leant over to whisper something in her ear. Harry looked away, burying his nose into the book he ought to have finished hours ago. 

When he glanced back, he was met with Draco's gaze. The blond raised an eyebrow that felt less like a challenge and more like a question, before turning back to the girls.

"He's insufferable." Harry growled to Hermione, who seemed otherwise preoccupied with her second book.

"Draco?" She asked without looking up.

"How did you know?" Harry furrowed his brows, glancing across at her. "You haven't looked up once."

"You always say that about him." Hermione replied, a wide grin tugging at her lips as she attempted to bury herself further into her book. She knew she had no time for Harry's love life, and besides, it wasn't as if it was actually going anywhere.

"I didn't even know he spoke French." Harry said, turning back to Draco. Hermione shook her head.

"I'm going to go borrow this, don't do anything stupid." She said affectionately. Harry was half tempted to sit on his hands just to spite her, but he knew she's just laugh and dissolve back into her research. Hermione returned only a few minutes later to find Harry attempting to stifle his laughter as Draco was told off for talking too loudly in the library. But it quickly turned to a glare when one girl hooked her arm around Draco's and led him away, whispering foreign words into his ear. Draco seemed all too pleased with these events and Harry all too annoyed.

"I still don't get why he knows French." Harry growled.

"Of course he speaks French Harry, what I want to know is why you care." Ron said over dinner, whilst he attempted to pile ever more food on his plate. Draco had been a topic of intense conversation for almost the entirety of the day, despite everyone but Harry being entirely unwilling to talk about him. Ron, therefore, chose to focus on his meal rather than the conversation he kept being pulled into.

"Haven't you had enough?" Hermione asked, watching with awe as he managed to pile his food into a small mountain.

"Stocking up for the holidays, I happen to have brothers!" Ron huffed.

"Where did he learn French?" Harry asked again, prodding his potatoes absentmindedly.

"Blimey Harry, I bet Malfoy isn't that obsessed with you!" Ron said, glancing across at his friend. The Draco Obsession, as many of the Gryffindors had begun to call it, was only getting worse each year. Harry huffed, resting his chin on his hand, unaware of the amused but exasperated looks being passed around the table.

Meanwhile, across at the Slytherin table Blaise Zabini attempted to refrain from stabbing Draco with a fork as he obliviously rambled on about a certain Harry James Potter.

"Draco, mate, I get what you're trying to say, but stop describing Harry fucking Potter in French! I don't speak French!" Draco looked across at Blaise, who was staring at his friend with furrowed brows. His fork was clutched upright in one hand, the knuckles turning white.

"Do you think Potter knows French? I bet he does, that's just the sort of underhanded thing Potter would do!" Draco waved his hands frantically. Pansy had to confiscate Blaise's forks. Draco barely noticed, too busy staring at Harry, who had, without anyone's notice, risen and was now halfway out the hall. 

"Harry, where are you going?" Hermione called after Harry, who barely turned around long enough to reply.

"To bed."

Harry, however, didn't go to bed. At least, not straight away. First he stopped by the library to gather a collection of French beginners books. Then, with the pile balanced precariously, he climbed the stairs to the Griffindor dorms, and collapsed into bed to begin reading. Because if there was one thing he should have learnt from four years of friendship with Hermione, it was how to study.

When Ron, Dean, Seamus and Nevile finally returned from the Great Hall, they found Harry curled up in his bed, failing miserably at speaking French. Apparently, studying a foreign language was not as easy as Hermione made it look.

"Mate, I don't think that's how you pronounce 'ca va bien'." Were the only words Ron offered before blowing out the lamp by his bedside. Harry just cast a silencing charm and pulled the covers over his head to continue his research by the light of his wand.

The next morning brought rain and fabulous eye bags for Harry. Draco, on the other hand, seemed in high spirits, Harry decided irritably as he watched the Beauxbatons swamp his enemy from his position by the window of the second floor. The rain had only just stopped, a few late drops still landing here and there. Droplets of water ran down the buildings, racing each other to the ground.

The large window sported stained glass along the edges and overlooked one of the largest courtyards, out of the way of the main bustle of school. Quidditch practice had been cancelled due to a number of the players being off sick, or so they claimed, and without anything to occupy his weekend Harry was bored out of his brain. French practice had only served to worsen his headache so instead he had taken to watching Draco in very much the same fashion as he would usually be watching the snitch. Which is to say, intently, as if his life depended on it.

The slimy ferret appeared to have taken to the Beauxbatons girls like a duck to water, and they seemed equally as enamoured with him, grinning madly at the jokes he made. Blaise and Pansy stood off to the side, both appearing to have already charmed the skirts of their chosen girls and were watching Draco with interest. Well, Blaise was still keeping an eye on his friend, Pansy on the other hand was too busy snogging a tall dark haired beauty with a sly curl to her lips. Harry ignored them in favour of staring after Draco.

"Harry, are you going to spend all day watching Malfoy?" Ginny asked, startling him as she emerged out of thin air. Or rather, from around the corner. Harry looked back at her, eyes wide, mouth agape.

"Of course not, I'm not watching him." Harry stuttered defensively, leaning back against the window.

"Right, and I don't have a crush on Luna. Look, why don't you go talk to him?" She asked, and seeing his expression, added "without fighting."

"Malfoy is, well he's Malfoy. I can't exactly waltz up to him and start chatting." Harry replied.

"Well why on earth not?" Ginny smirked, spinning on her heel and disappearing before Harry could say a word. He could never understand how she managed to do that, appear out of nowhere and feed out bits of advice like she had them stored away somewhere. He bet Luna had something to do with it.

Running his hands through his hair, Harry stood, still glaring out the window. He turned to leave, deciding there was no point standing around when he could be doing something productive, like figuring out what Draco was up to, and he was halfway down the staircase when he ran straight into a Beauxbatons boy.

"Oh, sorry, sorry." Harry stuttered, moving to one side.

"No, no trouble." The boy replied with a heavy accent, turning pink. He wore the standard Beauxbatons uniform, buttoned up tightly. Mousy brown hair fell in waves across his face, and Harry noticed that the boy had a crooked nose.

"What's your name?" Harry asked, leaning against the banister of the stairs. An idea had begun to grow in his brain, one which his friends would probably hit him with an issue of Witch Weekly for even considering.

"Tomas." The Beauxbatons replied, tilting his head questioningly.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Harry."

"Like, Harry Potter?" Tomas asked. Harry chuckled at the question, it wasn't as if he hadn't expected it.

"The one and only." Tomas seemed to only grow redder. In the distance, the clock chimed in for 11 o'clock.

"Well, uh, I should be going." Tomas fumbled past, glancing back down at Harry to grin shyly for just a moment before he raced up the stairs.

Harry smiled, then turned back to the window he had been about to leave, staring out at the crowd. He watched as Draco pulled a girl from the ranks to lead her off to some broom cupboard, and sighed heavily. The other girls flitted about, looking disappointing. One attempted to approach Blaise and Pansy, but thought better of it and rejoined her throng of friends.

This wasn't the first time Harry had seen Draco seduce a poor Beauxbatons girl with his sleazy charm, but he had noticed it was getting markedly more frequent. What exactly the girls found so attractive about him, Harry would never know. Perhaps it was the almost white hair? Or the confidence to his stride? Not as if Harry thought he was particularly alluring, but evidently there was something about Draco that was worth withstanding him for. So Harry was hardly surprised when, the next day at breakfast, Draco had yet again some other girl over his arm. Harry glared across at the other boy, who merely smirked when Harry turned to look. Avoiding eye contact, he spun back around to face Ron and Hermione.

"Look at him, thinks he's a bloody peacock." Ron muttered.

"I hate the way he treats those girls like they're disposable." Hermione agreed. Harry just stared down at his food. Whilst the two chattered over the wrongdoings and faults of Draco, Harry simply sat and let his blood boil.

"We have to do something." He finally said. His friends glanced up, and noticing his glare, smartly decided to say nothing.

They continued to say absolutely nothing when, the following morning, they arrived at the great hall to find Harry with his tongue down Tomas' throat.

Ginny, however, was smarter.

"Harry, what are you doing?" She leaned down to whisper in his ear. Harry pulled back a moment, sending Tomas a light grin before standing and shifting closer to Ginny, angling the conversation away from prying ears.

"If Malfoy wants to seduce every girl in Beauxbatons then I don't see why I can't have every boy." Harry muttered, glaring past her towards the slytherin table where Draco sat, eyes narrowed. But for once his attention was turned not to Harry, but to the boy he had just been snogging.

"You're jealous." Ginny stated.

"I'm not jealous of Malfoy, Ginny! I just think someone needs to knock him of his perch!" Harry struggled to keep his voice down, not wanting the others to overhear.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." Ginny shook her head, before taking her place between her brothers.

Harry glanced across at the Slytherin table, catching Draco's eye for just a moment before he sat down, turning to face his friends and Tomas.

"Harry? You okay?" Hermione asked lightly.

"Better than ever." Harry replied, pulling his attention away from Malfoy and towards his plans for outwitting the slytherin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer; I'm not great at writing long fics, so just bear with me while I figure out how I want to do this. I'm aiming for around 8,000 words in total but I'd rather have a well written and completed story than a long one so yeah. 
> 
> Second disclaimer: I do not speak a word of French. All French is credited to my friend whom I am eternally grateful for. 
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated!!


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